


Surely By Now It's All In Tatters

by fingalsanteater



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, Mind Control, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:38:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingalsanteater/pseuds/fingalsanteater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only person Morgana will get down on her knees for is Gwen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surely By Now It's All In Tatters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winkwonk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winkwonk/gifts).



> Set during season 5 episodes 7-8, when Gwen is under Morgana's spell. 
> 
> Title comes from Tarkio's song "Annabelle Leigh."

The only person Morgana will get down on her knees for is Gwen-- to taste the sweetness between her legs and make her sigh. She wants to feel Gwen's fingers tangled in her hair, clenching as Morgana licks into her. She doesn't care if the wet of the forest floor is soaking into her skirts, the chill making her knees ache, when she can feel Gwen's soft thighs clenched around her ears. She doesn't care if the dusty stone floor is hard and painfully unyielding, as long as Gwen opens up for her.  

Right now though, Morgana has Gwen on the narrow cot in what used to be her decrepit little hovel. She's sitting at the edge of the bed and Morgana's grimy from kneeling in the dirt of the floor. Gwen's skirts are pushed up to her hips and Morgana is sliding the V of her forefinger and middle finger up, from the bottom of Gwen's slick inner folds, to the top where she lets her palm rest on the swollen bead of sensitive flesh.  Gwen moans and cants her body, begging for more. Morgana grips the soft flesh of Gwen's hips, digging her ragged nails in and making Gwen cry out.

"Morgana, please," Gwen pleads, breathlessly.

Morgana can't deny her, just as Gwen can't deny Morgana now. It makes Morgana sick to think she couldn't have Gwen this way before, that the only reason Gwen submits is because she is filled with Morgana's will now. Morgana feels so small and so angry, the hate that consumes her coursing through her body, filling every crack darkly like spilled ink. Morgana digs her fingernails in harder, blood welling like the bitterness in Morgana's heart.

Gwen cries and begs again, so Morgana stands and yanks her up by her hips. They stand together and Morgana captures Gwen's lips in a harsh kiss, biting them, sucking Gwen's lower lip hard into her mouth and nipping at the soft skin. Scraping her teeth along Gwen's jaw, Morgana offers softer kisses in the wake of her bruising teeth, making Gwen whimper. She digs her fingers hard into Gwen's soft sides, then smoothes her hands down them lightly, soothing the pain. 

Wanting desperately to feel skin on skin, Morgana pulls off Gwen's dress and shift. Gwen is beautiful like this, her skin golden and her dark hair mussed. Morgana begins pulling off her own clothes, her dress just the rough material of peasant's and wrapped around her body easily. Gwen stops her, puts her hand on Morgana's and says, "Let me, my lady."

Morgana shudders, heat spiking through her when Gwen's fingers brush her bare shoulders. She moans, her legs trembling, when Gwen's hands fumble with the knot at her waist. And, finally, _finally_ , when the dress is on the ground at their feet, Morgana grips Gwen's waist, presses their bodies together and licks into her mouth. Gwen's tongue twines around Morgana's, and Morgana bites it and then sucks softly.

The air in the cabin is cold, but the heat between them is sweltering. Morgana cups Gwen's breast and rubs a thumb over her nipple. Gwen arches into her touch. Morgana latches her mouth onto the junction of shoulder and neck, tasting the sweet-salt flavor of Gwen's skin, sucking hard, trying to bruise. She squeezes Gwen's breast and pinches her nipple, rubs her other hand down Gwen's back and soft ass.  Gwen just holds on to Morgana's slim hips, allowing Morgana to take her any way she wants.

What Morgana wants is Gwen's love. What she wanted is her devotion without having to resort to the magic that now binds her mind and her will.

She had Gwen's love once. But, Arthur stole her away, like he stole the throne out from under her and the crown from atop her head. When she's not furious at Merlin betraying her friendship and trying to kill her, she's fiercely envious of his loyalty to Arthur. Because Arthur has the love of the whole of Camelot, and Morgana has the love of no person now that her sister is dead. Her anger at the injustice chokes her and suddenly she can't stand Gwen's touch.

But, her love is all lies.  Gwen's sweet touch is all lies. Her moans and whimpers and pleading eyes are all lies. Morgana's fashioned a plaything for herself, like a child with a doll, and the whispers between them are just the empty echoes of Morgana's own words.

Morgana feels bile rising up in her throat and she pushes Gwen away, hard. The back of Gwen's knees slam against the edge of the cot and she falls back, thighs spread open invitingly, curls between her legs wet with the evidence of her arousal.

"Morgana, what..." Gwen questions, her voice shaking.

Morgana wants so viciously to drop to her knees and lick and suck until Gwen shudders, until she feels Gwen spasming around her fingers. She can't truly have Gwen's love, but she can take this false love and let it fill her up. Maybe it will be enough. 

Using her dress as cushion for her knees, she drops and slides her hands up Gwen's thighs, pushing them slightly wider, plucking her thumbs over the tight tendons at the juncture of groin and thigh like a string.  Her palms brush against Gwen's wiry hair, and she lets her fingers dig in for a moment, feeling the strands slide between her open fingers. She rubs up Gwen's soft belly, to just under her breasts, so close to her heart, but not quite, feeling the echo of the steady beat just under her ribs. Sliding her hands back down either side of her, she grips Gwen's hips and hauls her forward, so she can get a better angle.

Dipping her head down, hands still on Gwen's hips, Morgana presses the flat of her tongue to the hair just above her swollen flesh, tasting the wet sweetness, smeared up from where Morgana had pressed her fingers into Gwen earlier.

"Morgana," Gwen sighs and Morgana can't deny herself any longer.

She licks down now and Gwen tenses briefly, her breath hitching, before relaxing and breathing out in a sharp huff. Morgana presses a finger against her, circling, firm but never dipping into the tight flesh. Under her, Gwen squirms and moans a breathy _please_.

Morgana pulls back and Gwen lifts her head, looking down at her, eyes dark and glassy with lust. Morgana hooks her hands under Gwen's thighs and lifts her legs up to rest them over her shoulders, the weight a strange comfort. The position allows her to get in closer, the heady scent of Gwen's arousal making Morgana throb with need. She can feel her own wetness slick on her thighs.

This time, Morgana does press into Gwen. One hand is on Gwen's stomach and she can feel her muscles flutter as she bucks up at the touch of Morgana's tongue to her tight, slick hole. She breeches the taut ring, licking in. With her other hand, Morgana rubs her, small circles and soft caresses, just enough to make Gwen keen with pleasure. She thrusts her tongue into Gwen's silky heat and Morgana's chin and cheeks are wet. She slides her tongue up, over Gwen's swollen folds, and sucks every place her tongue touches, but every time Gwen says please, Morgana fucks back into her.

Soon, Gwen's breath is coming faster and she's pleading _don't stop don't stop don't stop_ , as if Morgana could even think of leaving her wanting. Gwen is always loud when she comes, and Morgana loves to hear her cries of pleasure as she feels her contracting around her tongue. She draws out Gwen's orgasm, past the point of comfort, making her twitch and jerk as she gently rubs her now over-sensitive flesh, continuing to lick her.

Gwen is leaning on an elbow, watching her as she nuzzles her nose into Gwen's hair, resting her chin on her swollen folds. Morgana pulls away. She can tell her face is glossy, damp with salvia, sweat and Gwen. Sitting up fully, she pulls Morgana to her and Morgana has to climb from the floor to atop the narrow bed, where she slots one leg in between Gwen's. Gwen draws her up for a kiss and licks Morgana's chin and jaw, tasting the wetness there, tasting herself. She kisses Morgana sweetly, their tongues brushing only slightly.

Morgana wants desperately for Gwen to touch her and so Gwen does, reaching down between their sweat slick bodies. She is so close already, and when Gwen slips a finger into her and rubs the heel of her hand against Morgana, she comes, sighing against Gwen's mouth. Gwen pets her hair and kisses her through it, until she feels the last of her orgasm shiver through her.

She wants to lay in Gwen's arms and sleep. She wants to wake with Gwen still by her side. She wants to forget her revenge, to forget that Gwen will never truly be hers. Instead, she untangles herself, and they dress in silence, neither looking at one another.

Morgana feels hollowed out, empty and sick.

Gwen, shattering the uneasy quiet, asks, "When should we meet again, my lady?"

"Two days hence," she answers, anger filling her again. "And Arthur better be dead. Don't forget you'll likely have to kill Merlin too."

She didn't need anyone's love; she had purpose.


End file.
